


you kill me boy (XO)

by knightswatch



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Competition, Getting Together, M/M, Seijou Week, come prove it punk, you think you're a better cuddler?, you think you're a better kisser than me?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 15:38:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6245518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightswatch/pseuds/knightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because <i>that's</i> what it's about. It's not chemistry or communication. It's a competition—it's the constant fight for the top spot that he and Kyoutani can't seem to quite agree on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you kill me boy (XO)

**Author's Note:**

> For Seijou Week day 1: Champions

It starts with an argument, which, given that the two of them are _constantly_ arguing, isn't a surprise to Shigeru in the least. He can't remember what they were arguing _about_ at this point, not really, only his own voice, haughty and laughing at Kyoutani's glare. “You would be a _terrible_ kisser, I bet.”

Kyoutani stares back at him, eyebrows furrowed together, hands clenched at his sides like he's trying not to punch Shigeru in the face. (They argue a lot, Shigeru's pretty sure he's not going to do it this time. He never has before.) But he does snort slightly, taking a step forward so the two of them are chest-to-chest. “I bet I'm fucking better than you.”

And well, there's only one way to settle an argument like that, isn't there? Shigeru isn't sure which of them leans in first, only that he has his hands bunched in the fabric of Kyoutani's jersey to keep him from backing out, and that Kyoutani's hand is digging into the back of his hair.

Turns out that they're _both_ terrible. There's too much anger boiling between both of them and too much inexperience. They clack teeth almost immediately, failing to find an angle that actually _works_ between them.

Kyoutani smirks when they pull apart. “I knew you sucked.”

Shigeru kisses him again, just to shut him up.

* * * 

They don't stop there. Why would they? It becomes a contest of its own, and once they both master the learning curve involved, there's only the burning desire to _win_ at it.

( _Only_. Because Shigeru certainly doesn't want _more_ from Kyoutani than this.)

The club room is already emptied out behind them, and Kyoutani still has fire and frustration in the set of his shoulders, enough that Shigeru wonders how he hasn't torn his uniform yet. Shigeru doesn't approach him, just continues packing things into his bag, wondering if he'll have to pick a fight again or if Kyoutani's feeling fired up enough that they'll skip straight through to making out, it's easier to get a win on him that way.

Because _that's_ what it's about. It's not chemistry or communication. It's a competition—it's the constant fight for the top spot that he and Kyoutani can't seem to quite agree on.

He doesn't realize he's staring until he catches the way Kyoutani's eyes dart over his shoulder to catch him in the act, and he frowns further, shoving his sleeves up around his elbows. “What?”

“You need to learn to listen, Kyoutani-kun,” it wasn't a _good_ practice, and he finds himself sneering at Kyoutani, tossing his bag down as he stands up, advancing a step. Kyoutani bares his teeth in return. “You're freaking out the first-years and it's causing a problem for the rest of the team.”

“No I'm not,” he snaps in return, and he takes a step toward Shigeru in return, leaving them pressing into each other's personal space, and there's a thread of tension so tight that Shigeru barely dares to pull a breath in. “Just because you're _scared_ about not having control of them—”

“I'm not _scared_ ,” Shigeru shoves at Kyoutani's shoulder, gripping the fabric of his shirt in both hands. He's hissing, their faces close together. It's familiar—it probably shouldn't be. “Why do you have such a problem being part of this team? Do you need to be _trained_?”

There's a dark look in Kyoutani's eyes, and Shigeru figures there's half a chance that he's just going to get headbutted, but Kyoutani leans forward and kisses him instead.

And it isn't like the first time—he knows how to tilt his head, how to keep it going even when Shigeru shoves him back another step until his back is pressed into the wall. The tension doesn't snap with it, though, and it doesn't snap when Shigeru pushes Kyoutani back _harder_ , or when Kyoutani licks into his mouth and ignores the threat of teeth.

Being good at kissing each other is a drawback on its own, and after sucking Kyoutani's tongue until he lets slip a tiny groan, Shigeru pulls sharply back and releases his grip, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand in a single, sharp motion, snorting. “I win.”

Kyoutani doesn't look entirely content with that declaration though Shigeru didn't entirely expect him to. He frowns before his hand finds its way into the back of Shigeru's threading through the back of it with something that could almost be called _softness_ before they kiss again.

He's even more dedicated to the effort now after losing, and honestly, Shigeru never thought he would be competing so intensely over something so ridiculous, but this is the game they've set up and if it stops them from punching each other's lights out, then it might just be the better option.

There are rules—unspoken ones, and they've never tried touching one another other than Shigeru's hair of Kyoutani's shoulders, and the general rule is that showing you enjoy it first counts as a loss. They don't leave marks on each other, though Kyoutani does nip slightly at the space under his ear, grinning when it nets him a win due to Shigeru's breath coming out with a harsh shake to it.

They stop when they're both panting, tied, and the frustration has burned from anger at each other to something else. Something that leaves Shigeru feeling like his stomach is twisted into knots and there's fire crawling through his veins under his skin. Shigeru slowly, almost reluctantly, drops his hands from where he's pinning Kyoutani to the wall, turning and just _hoping_ that Kyoutani doesn't decide to comment on the fact that he's hard in his slacks.

The awkwardness of splitting apart is the worst thing, but this time, Kyoutani watches him grab his bag and sling it onto his shoulder without commenting, shoulders still leaning back against the wall and panting harshly.

With the quiet of the night air, and without Kyoutani to _see_ him do it, Shigeru presses his hand to his lips. The phantom weight of Kyoutani's is still there, and his mouth tingles the whole way home.

* * * 

As it turns out, there're more uses for kissing between them than ending an argument. They're also a good distraction from homework that neither of them wants to do.

It's that reason, and no other, that Shigeru has Kyoutani basically in his lap, a change from where the two of them were spread out on the floor with their books around them at least pretending to study instead of making out. Not that Shigeru minds, really, but its _different_ from when they're kissing purely because they have something to win. Kyoutani's teeth nudge against his lower lip in a way that's familiar, but instead of biting down like they usually do, it's a light scrape of pressure. 

Shigeru reaches forward, gripping around Kyoutani's sides and pulling forward so Kyoutani _is_ straddling his lap, letting his hands slide forward to wander over Kyoutani's back. He doesn't respond past shifting to make himself slightly more comfortable.

His hand starts low on Shigeru's side, and when it lifts he expects it to end up in its usual place in the back of his hair, but instead he finds Kyoutani's fingers curling around his jaw, tilting his head slightly further back to deepen the kiss more. 

And it's not—it's not the kind of kissing that Shigeru is _used to_ at this point. There's no clear race to _win_. It's strange because victory has always been a mark of making the other person feel good, but it's a different kind of good here, and the newness of it squirms strangely in Shigeru's stomach, makes him draw back early to pull in a shivering breath.

Kyoutani's fingers are still on his face, swiping up toward his cheek, cradling it there. And the look in his eyes is—

Shigeru leans back slightly further, dropping his hands and bobbing a swallow that he _knows_ is too obvious. “W- we should be studying.”

His brow knits together in response, obviously confused. But, as requested, he slides out of Shigeru's lap and pulls a book into his own, glaring down at it, hand clenched into a tight fist. “Sure.”

He doesn't want to think about Kyoutani staring at him with _fondness_ while they kiss. That isn't what this is about.

* * * 

It turns out that, in whatever way, kissing _was_ making something better between the two of them, because when they stop, Shigeru and Kyoutani are _constantly_ at each other's throats.

They're a mess at practice; on they days that Kyoutani _will_ work with him without being forced into it, they can't sync up properly, and whenever Shigeru tries to correct things, Kyoutani snaps at him and walks away. He doesn't come over to study, they stop having lunch together. Shigeru spends practices trying to coerce him into being part of the team.

It bleeds out of practice and into the rest of his life, and Shigeru finds himself more frustrated than he's used to, constantly dwelling on _why_ Kyoutani has to be such a pain, why he can't just _listen_ , why he has to make everything so _difficult_.

He's also thinking a lot about Kyoutani. About the last time that Kyoutani kissed him, the way he looked—with warmth in his eyes and his lips slightly parted like he was going to simply kiss Shigeru _again_ without bothering to declare himself the winner.

He thinks about it _a lot_ , and it still takes him far too long to realize.

“Hey,” he leans his shoulder on the locker above Kyoutani's. It's Monday, the day they used to spend at Shigeru's house studying since they didn't have practice. Kyoutani looks up at him with a glower before turning back to getting his shoes out.

“I'm busy,” he doesn't even let Shigeru _ask_ him to come over. It's not that big a surprise, but he sighs.

“I know why you're pissed at me,” finally. Kyoutani's eyes dart up again, and his shoulders tense further, and, this time, he doesn't answer, so Shigeru keeps talking. “We can talk about it _here_ , or we can go _study_.”

“You're an asshole,” Kyoutani responds, standing once he's slid his shoes on but nodding for Shigeru to go ahead of him. The walk back to his apartment is tense, silent, and Shigeru uses the time to roll over and over in his head what he should say.

He doesn't come up with anything, so instead he turns once the door is shut and kisses Kyoutani again.

This, as it turns out, isn't the right answer.

Kyoutani stumbles a step back, shaking his head and pushing Shigeru's shoulders to create space between them. “I can't do this.”

He opens his mouth to snap something at that, then stops himself, taking a steadying breath. “You mean making out with me for fun.”

For a second, Kyoutani doesn't seem to know how to reply to that. He turns his face after a moment, huffing a sigh that makes his shoulders sag. “I don't wanna do it just for _fun_.”

Shigeru nods his head slightly, stepping close once again. And this time, instead of a kiss he wraps his arms around Kyoutani, pulling him into an embrace that forces a surprised sound out of him. It feels _nice_ , holding onto Kyoutani like this, like sliding two puzzle pieces together, and on impulse, Shigeru nuzzles kisses into the side of his face. “What if we do it for real instead?”

“Are you—” he starts to lean back but Shigeru doesn't let him, rubbing circles into his back that make Kyoutani relax, leaning his weight into the hug more and more. “Are you fucking with me? I swear I'll kill you.”

“I'm not _fucking_ with you. I _like_ you,” regardless of how long it took to figure that out. The tips of Kyoutani's ears are pink and Shigeru kisses those too, to distract himself from how nerve wracking it is to say things so bluntly.

“Good,” Kyoutani says, softly, leaning his forehead into Shigeru's shoulder. “Me too.”

“I won that, you know,” Shigeru says it softly, with laughter in his voice. Kyoutani muffles a laugh, nodding and kissing his collarbone softly.

“I'll win the next one, then.”

And for once, Shigeru is happy to lose.

**Author's Note:**

> Talk to me about kyouhaba at [tumblr dot com](knightswatch.tumblr.com)


End file.
